


goodnight mr. moon

by kiranstein



Category: School 2013
Genre: M/M, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 15:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiranstein/pseuds/kiranstein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heungsoo is a little lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	goodnight mr. moon

The white washed walls are perfectly sterile, complete with a strong smell of disinfectant. It’s comforting; at least, it is when it’s the last thing he can turn to. Four strong white walls, boxing him in, marking him as defective. There’s half of one side that’s turned to glass. It’s dirty glass, glass with his prints on them. White smudges that make Heungsoo nauseous but then so does his medication and it’s getting harder to distinguish between the two.

 

Sometimes, his teachers drop by the give him the notes he missed and the homework he should do. But they’re polite and awkward – stilted, hesitant – questions him on the whereabouts of Namsoon and soon the nurses usher them out because his heart rate’s increasing at an alarming pace. Then, they turn to him and flutter and peck, asking if he needs more food or painkillers. He shakes his head and hopes one of them puts sodium thiopental in his drip. Sleep is on the other side of the window. The heater doesn’t – can’t – replace the one he used to have.

He spends most of his nights staring out of the window. The moon’s pale and it cripples him, it drags him through more than his leg ever does.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“… please welcome Park Heungsoo.”

Heungsoo shuffles in with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He’s fingering the empty pack of cigarettes and knows he shouldn’t risk another run to the convenience store. His sister’s already pale from juggling her studies and keeping them fed, but there’s a lanky boy in the back with a challenging glare. There’s a flightiness in the way he taps his shoe against the floor and anger rolls off him in waves.

Heungsoo knows shouldn’t but he does.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Heungsoo’s pumping his legs, working them till they burn and then some. There’s a policeman with a metal baton and Heungsoo hasn’t felt so alive in years, centuries of drywells and a sudden rush of blood. It gets him going and he’s on the verge of addiction.

The policeman falls back when he realizes his legs are no match for Heungsoo’s.

Heungsoo laughs out loud as he runs, the little speck of authority getting smaller and smaller behind him. His lungs feel like they’re on fire and he feels like he’s free. If he runs a little harder he’s sure he’d be able leave the cold, dark night behind with the policeman.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The police get him when he’s four lanky boys in, give or take an arm. His sister is a wreck when she arrives, blubbering and bowing to grim faced officers. They can’t do more than warn him because as violent as he is, he’s still underage and that’s the only thing working in his favour.

“…make sure there isn’t a next time…” The voice Heungsoo picks up on is tired and weary.

“I promise officer.” His sister sounds no better. A weird feeling of guilt and regret blossoms in the pit of his stomach and he’s a second away from punching the officer in front of him. Their uniforms and dumb camaraderie makes him mad. He’s wallowing and he hates it.

They leave at midnight. His sister’s shoulders are slumped and he wants to hug her and tell her he’ll be good from now on and this will never happen again. He only reaches out a few centimeters before dropping his hand back down. Because he won’t, he’s already spiraled down so far and he can’t push his way back even if he wanted to.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It’s not cold enough when he finally catches up and the moon is just barely on the edge of disappearing. There’s too much light and too little hope. Dread floods through him and his tongue is at a lost. Heungsoo shoves his way past his what could have been and only surfaces when he gets home.

He can only avoid and turn. His cards are all gone.

  
  


Slow is the path back and he resists at every pebble and rock.

  
  


But he does start slipping. Things get wet and he’s sliding down.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Heungsoo hears everything he doesn’t want to. There’s a chance waiting for him at the end of the hall and he doesn’t know how to make the choice. He gets a nudge from the teacher but she’s no use to him now, she thinks she knows and she doesn’t. It’s a little more than right or wrong or here and now. The gym teacher thinks he’s got it covered and knows him more, but he doesn’t either.  
  
Namsoon is patient. He waits and waits, for Heungsoo to make up his mind and pick a side or for something else. Heungsoo can't fathom why Namsoon is smiling at the wall or why he's so relaxed when every nerve in Heungsoo's body is tense and buzzing.  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Heungsoo ends up following because he’s confused. He’s not as angry as he should be and he can't find it in himself to play pretend. Running makes him tired and he just wants to lie down and sleep for a while

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


When they’re together again, it goes by fast. There’s a little too much clanking teeth and runny noses for it to be romantic. The tears burn through his cuts and Namsoon tries to dry them off in vain. He starts laughing when Namsoon makes the cuts hurt more because he’s pressing too hard and that idiot never did know when to stop. Namsoon only stares back up and his face is at it again, the pull of his lips, the furrow in his brow and Heungsoo wants to frame this moment and keep it for lonely nights and cold seasons – for when Namsoon runs again. His laugh catches in his throat and suddenly he’s wants to lock Namsoon somewhere safe and keep him wide-eyed and naïve. Namsoon looks more than confused and he’s reaching out, feeling for a grip on Heungsoo’s thick sweater.

“If you want me to never look sad again, you have to promise the same,” Namsoon says. He pulls himself upright with Heungsoo’s sweater and bumps their foreheads together, because they’re both a little stupid and they don’t have enough words, don’t  _know_  enough words, to say anything more than  _shut up_.

Heungsoo stretches out his mouth in a smile and huffs out a laugh. It’s a little on the forced side and not nearly enough to quell the feeling of protectiveness. There’s a bitter taste in his mouth that Namsoon can’t quite kiss away but it feels less and less acidic each time and maybe, maybe it’ll go away some day. Maybe it’ll travel to a faraway place with the strange twist in Namsoon’s smile and they’ll be okay.

 

 


End file.
